Shawn's Many Secrets
by weepingingangelbaby
Summary: One-shots where something about Shawn is revealed. Mostly going to be crossovers with different shows from all across the fandom universe. Awesome!Genius!Shawn
1. Mathematicians

**Psych/Numb3rs**

Shawn was in the greatest of great moods.

He had just solved another case using his awesome deduction skills, disguised as psychicism… pychisists… psychi… whatever, he had just made out with his awesome and very beautiful girlfriend Juliet O'Hara, and best of all, he had a pineapple smoothie.

Okay, maybe Jules was the best thing, but pineapples.

Shawn felt that it explained it all.

Shawn leaned back in his best-worst-friend Lassie-face's super awesome rolling chair, slurping up his smoothie, when Lassiter came storming over to him.

"LASSIE!" Shawn shouted, wide smile on his face, as he sat up in the chair.

"Spencer," Lassiter growled, obviously already completely done with Shawn's antics, even though it was only the middle of the day. Not that Lassiter was ever not done with Shawn's antics. The guy seriously needed to learn to loosen up. "Get out of my chair. Now."

"Carlton Lassiter. Didn't your mother ever teach you to share?" Shawn said, giving Lassiter a disapproving glance.

"No. Yes. Whatever. Just get out of my chair and out of my precinct Spence."

"Lassiter, this is not your precinct," Shawn said in a slow voice, as if he was speaking to a child, "This is Chief's precinct, and one of Santa Barbra's precincts, but it is not yours. Don't be so selfish."

Lassiter growled again. Shawn stood up.

"Will if you're going to be a grumpy-little-mcgrumpypants, then I am going to go over and get one of those lovely little muffins over there. You Lassie-face, are destroying my psychic chi, with all your negative vibes. Only muffins can solve the problem now.

Or perhaps a hug.

Or a thousand and two pounds of pure unsweetened honey."

Lassiter shock his head. Shawn Spencer was by far the most idiotic, confusing person he had ever met. Lassiter wasn't even sure if was even human. There was no possible that the moron in front of him was even the same species as a fine head detective such as himself.

"Just leave Spencer. Chief has some hot shot mathematician from the FBI office in LA coming in today, and I am sure she does not want you to be here to embarrass us all."

"Oh Lassie-frass," Shawn said putting his hand on Lassiter's shoulder. Lassiter glared down at the hand. "As if I could possibly be an embarrassment."

And with that Shawn went skipping down the hallway of the precinct of the Santa Barbra police department.

 _Right,_ Lassiter thought, _not an embarrassment at all._

"Charlie!" Lassiter heard Shawn yell suddenly. He looked over at the immature child in a grown man's body, and saw that he had stopped skipping, and was standing stock still in the middle of the hallway.

Lassiter followed his gaze, to a short, scruffy, nerdy looking guy, who looked to be filling out a form for a visitor's badge.

Of course. Only Shawn Spencer would invite a friend to a police station. Though on second glance, he seems surprised to see him there.

"Dr. Spencer!" said the man, looking equally as surprised.

 _Doctor Spencer,_ thought Lassiter, his eyes going wide. _There is no way that I heard that right._ Carlton decided to get closer to find out exactly what was going on.

He strode over with long, purposeful steps, and heard Spencer mumble under his breathe, "FBI mathematician from LA, some psychic I am."

 _That's the consultant,_ Lassiter thought, now even more confused. How did an idiot like Shawn Spencer know a mathematician, and most importantly why the hell did he call Spencer doctor?

Lassiter moved over to the mathematician, and stuck his hand out, "Hello, I am Detective Carlton Lassiter, head detective here at the Santa Barbra police department. You must be Dr. Charles Eppes from the FBI."

Dr. Eppes shook Lassiter's hand without meeting his eyes. "Hi, hello. Yeah that's me." He let go of Carlton's hand and bent over to pick some things that seemed to have fallen on the floor.

"Here," Shawn said running over, "Let me help you with that Charlie." Shawn bent over and helped his old friend pick up some of his fallen materials. Charlie always seemed to be dropping things.

"Shawn," Charlie said standing up, materials in hand, "I haven't seen you in forever. What are you doing here?"

"Making a nuisance of himself, and being an embarrassment to actual police work," Lassiter responded before Shaw could, "I thought I told you to go home."

"Oh, Lassie, when have I ever listened to you?" Shawn grinned.

"Still getting into trouble then Shawn?" Charlie said laughing.

"Charles," Shawn replied cocking his head to the side, pursing his lips and throwing his hands out, "you know who you're talking too."

Dr. Eppes laughed again. "So really, what are you doing here?"

"Mr. Spencer is a consultant here, Dr. Eppes," came the voice of the chief as she walked up behind them, "Chief Karen Vic, pleasure to meet you Dr. Eppes." She too stuck out her hand. And again Charles Eppes shook it without looking the person in the eye, seemingly distracted.

"I'm confused," he stated, as he let go of the chief's hand, "If you have Shawn here, then why do you need me here?"

"I need a mathematician, Dr. Eppes, not a psychic."

"Psychic?" Charlie questioned, looking over at Shawn.

"I'll tell you later," Shawn replied, shrugging it off.

"Okay," Charlie said, knowing Shawn probably had some long, very crazy, and also very justified reason, for letting these people believe he was psychic. He wouldn't mess with what his friend had here, but he sure would question him about it. Just not right then. "I get that you need a mathematician, why didn't you just asked Dr. Spencer?"

Shawn face-palmed as the chief turned her head in a slow very deliberate manner, and fixed him with a pointed glare, "Dr. Spencer? And just what is 'Dr. Spencer' a doctor of?"

"Mathematics…" Dr. Eppes said slowly, as if it should be obvious, and it was. To him at least. Apparently not to these people.

"Spencer," Carlton said, bringing himself back into the conversation, "Shawn Spencer? As in resident idiot, class clown, all around joke, Shawn Spencer? There is absolutely no way that he is a doctor. He is a moron!"

"CARLTON!" shouted the chief.

"Sorry, Chief. But really, Spencer."

Now Charlie was really confused, "Moron? Shawn Spencer is by far the smartest person I have ever met, and I work at a college around a lot of smart people."

"Charlie…" Shawn groaned, burying his head deeper into his palm, "They don't know."

"They don't… they don't know. How do you manage to hide being a genius?"

"Yes Mr. Spencer. How did you manage to omit the fact that you are a genius, and apparently have a PhD in mathematics?"

"You can explain Charlie, I'm going to take your charts into the conference room," Shawn headed away, just as he said he would.

The chief and head detective turned back to the FBI consultant mathematician. "Shawn and I met at Princeton. I was 15, he was 18; we were both trying for our math doctorates. He's a genius, IQ at least 185, maybe higher. He never did tell me. We both got our doctorates, he left Princeton, I didn't, and we have been friends ever since. He has a few other PhD's, but he won't tell me what they are."

"Are we talking about the same Shawn Spencer?" Carlton said again, just to make sure he got the point across.

"Yes, he's just hyper because his brain works faster than everyone else in the room. He has so much extra energy," Charlie explained, guessing his friend's hyperactivity was what was causing the doubts of his genius.

"Well, who would have thought," the chief said turning around, heading towards the conference room, "I believe will be having two consultants for this case Dr. Eppes," she opened the door to the conference room. Shawn was pouring over one of the many notebooks that Charlie had brought with him. "Dr. Spencer."

Shawn looked up. "Hey Chief, Lassie, Charlie. Charlie this stuff is amazing. The friendship equation. The one you were kind of working on back at Princeton."

"Yeah, I'm actually working on writing a book about it."

"Amazing," Shawn said, flipping through the pages, momentarily forgetting his façade of immature idiocy.

"Unbelievable," Carlton said, because it truly was.

The next few hours passed quickly, Shawn and Charlie pouring over the numbers, and working out complex equations, Chief Vic and Lassiter standing by completely in shock.

It was about four hours later when Shawn loudly announced that he was now hungry, and would be taking himself and Dr. Charlie out to eat. The chief just nodded, staring at the equation on the board that Shawn Spencer, resident psychic of the Santa Barbra police department, had written down just moments before.

"Yeah, yeah. Be back in an hour or so."

"Will do Chief," Shawn saluted in his usual immature fashion, before turning to Lassiter, "Lassie." And Dr. Shawn Spencer and Dr. Charles Eppes exited the conference.

When they were out of range of the conference room, Charlie turned to his slightly older friend, "So, psychic?"

"It's a long story…"


	2. Valedictorians

**Disclaimer: Not mine, which should be obvious enough.**

 **Not my best work, but I feel the overwhelming need to post something, so here you go...**

Gus loved his jobs. Both of them. Very, very much.

Sure, selling pharmaceuticals was a bit dull. And that talking to doctors all day long, and trying to convince them to buy copious amounts wart creme's could get a bit tedious. And that while he was here slaving away, his best friend was probably doing something much more exciting.

Who was he kidding?

Not that he would ever, ever admit it to Shawn (even though he probably already knew, the guy seemed to know pretty much everything) he lived for the days that Shawn would show up unannounced and drag him away from the monotony that was working for Central Coast Pharmaceutical Company. Gus just prayed that today would be one of those days.

Gus' prayers were answered a few minutes later when his phone rang. He pressed the green answer button and put the phone up to his ear. "Hello."

"Gus, buddy, you busy?" It was Shawn.

Gus looked at his computer, which was open to Gallaga, just as it had been the fateful day the whole 'psychic' business had begun. Knowing Shawn would drag him away no matter what he said, he decided to lie, (he worked hard for this job, dammit, he wasn't going to give Shawn the satisfaction of knowing that he was right, and that the job truly sucked sometimes), "Yes, Shawn. Some of us have a real job you know. We can't all spend every hour of the day watching "The Days of our Lives" reruns."

"Gus!" Shawn fake gasped, "How dare you say such a thing, I also watch obscure 80's movies."

Gus shook his head, even though he knew his friend couldn't see him (but again, he probably knew anyways. Shawn knows all).

""Don't you shake your oiled little head at me Bruton Gaster."

See, he knew.

"Whatever, Shawn, you are jealous because the ladies love my magic head."

"Damn straight. Anyways, it's time for you to leave the boringness and come join me."

"And why would I want to do that Shawn?"

"Cause we have a case!"

Gus looked back at the frozen screen of Gallaga, then at the clock. He wasn't going to get anything else done here anyway, "Okay, fine. I'm coming."

"Sweet! I'll text you the address.

About twenty minutes later found Gus pulling up to one of the many high schools in the Santa Barbra area. He parked the blueberry outside of the yellow police tape, and got out.

He paused for a moment before making his way to the scene, steeling himself for the sight of yet another dead person. No matter how long he was one this job, it seemed he would never get used to the sight. Not the he exactly wanted to.

High school. He looked up at the building in front of him. Shawn and he had attended another, but even just seeing one brought back many memories of a time when he was younger, and Shawn was just as insane.

The case itself ended up being a pretty straight forward one. One of the queen bees of the school, had bashed in another queen bee's head with a cheer leading trophy over prom queen.

Gus didn't say he understood, he just said it was straight forward.

He was sitting in a chair by Juliet's desk, just thinking, while aforementioned detective was filling out paperwork.

"High school," Juliet said suddenly, shaking her head. "I just don't get how someone could do something so crazy as to kill someone over prom queen."

"Like you said high school. Emotions are high and puberty is in full swing. Who knows why teenagers do the things they do."

Juliet turned to Gus, "What were you like in high school Gus?"

Gus thought about it for a moment, "Pretty much the same I guess. Went to class, hung out with Shawn."

"And how was Spencer?" a voice said suddenly from behind him, Lassiter, "Class idiot just like always?"

Gus thought about it for a moment. What had Shawn been like in high school? He had almost immediately said yes to Lassiter's statement, but thinking back...

Gus often forgot, overlooked perhaps, the fact that his best friend was a genius. Shawn Spencer was by far the smartest person he had ever met, Shawn just screwed around so much that people, more specifically him, forgot about it most of the time.

Shawn, while a big class clown in high school, had been by far the smartest kid in school. He, along with the himself, had been in all AP and advanced classes. Gus remembered the times when they had spent doing homework, while he had spent hours slaving over the papers and equations, his best friend just seemed to automatically get it. He had passed everything easily.

Then of course at the end of senior year, Shawn had just stopped showing up to class, Gus had graduated, and Shawn hadn't even bothered to show up.

But this question of Lassiter's, it was reminding of him about the weeks before Shawn had stopped showing up. He had been called into the principals office, then he had come back to class grabbed his bag, and never came back to school. The famous stolen car incident happened that night, and Shawn began his nomadic life style going from job to job. Because of his mother and fathers divorce. It was a well known fact between the both of them.

However there was something else that had happened during that time frame, something that Shawn had told him then and he had forgotten about.

What was it, what was it?

Something about school... Grades... Graduation...

"Oh, my god," Gus said suddenly as he remembered what Shawn had told him. It was such a big deal, how had he forgotten about it.

"What, remembering all of his crazy stunts and foolish schemes overwhelm your brain?" Lassiter asked.

"Crazy schemes, foolish stunts, Lassie," Shawn said as came over and grabbed a chair. "What are we talking about? The Mexican border?"

Juliet and Lassiter both gave him matching looks that always appeared when Mexico was brought up. Gus shuddered. Mexico was never a good memory.

"No, Shawn. High school," Gus said.

"Ahhhh, high school..." Shawn said nostalgically, "Those were the days. Evil teachers, detention, prom..."

"Valedictorian."

Shawn froze as Gus said those words. "Yeah who was that again, I wasn't at graduation."

"You were Shawn, at least you were supposed to be."

"What!?" Lassiter yelled, "There is no way that Spencer, the idiot he is, was supposed to be valedictorian." Juliet just sat eyes wide, jaw on the floor, obviously shocked by what had just been revealed.

"Yeah, Gus don't be a exactly 7/8 of a half-caf frappe-chino, I was not valedictorian. That is just ridiculous. Let's talk about reality now, not your silly fantasy land Gus." Shawn gave on of his fake, forced laughs then looked at Gus, a warning in his eyes. Warning of what, Gus wasn't sure but he could tell that Shawn did not want him to keep on this topic of conversation. Gus decided to ignore him, he wanted to talk about this.

"No, Shawn, that was reality, is reality, I remember because you were called to the office and you never came back. You told me about it that night, but I forgot about it. I just remembered because Detective O'hara was asking about high school."

Shawn ran his hand over his mouth, as if deliberating whether or not to confirm or deny what was being talked about, not that Gus was going to let him deny it. He was not going to allow Shawn to make him out as an idiot in front of the detectives. Again.

"Fine, yes I was supposed to be valedictorian, yes I stopped showing up. Happy now?"

"Very. Thank you, Shawn." See, he knew what he was talking about, no silly fantasy land.

"No, no, no. I refuse to believe it!" Lassiter shouted, jumping up from the desk that he had been sitting on, "I had enough time believing the mathematician thing" _what_ "but valedictorian? Nope, nuh-uh, refuse to believe it."

"It's all true Lassy-frass. You would know this if you read the oh-so-helpful file your old partner made on me the first time we met." The four of them were silent for a moment. "Well, now that this ridiculousness is over, I am going to leave." And leave Shawn did. Right out of the precinct and in to the parking lot. Which was kind of strange, Gus was almost positive he was Shawn's ride.

Lassiter made his way to his desk and sat down. Juliet and Gus stayed perfectly still. Finally after about a minute of awkward silence, Juliet turned in her chair and faced Lassiter, "What was that about 'mathematician'?"

Lassiter just groaned very loudly, and then began to bang his head repeatedly on the desk. Obviously it was a sensitive topic.


End file.
